I quickly grabbed the book under my pillow and began noting down the contents of my dream.
Looking at the pages filled with scribbles throughout the book, all the dreams, some nightmares, some magical ones like this, and others just some random things about another world, all flash across my mind.
These dreams seem like memories settled at the back of my mind and I don't have any idea about the reason for their occurrences.
I call them dreams time to time, but the vicarious feelings I experience through them are too real, so I named them lives.
On this last page of the book, there are six names. "Arthur, Mary, Hercules, Asia, Katherine and Indra."
There are many characters popping up in my dreams, some are constant and some just come once. But, time to time, for these six characters, I will have a shift in perspective and I will watch the dream through their eyes.
I can feel their emotions to a certain degree and could understand their thoughts, I could even smell through their nose.
Because of these traits of my dreams I named them lives, as in lives of these six, instead of some unrelated name.
The girl in this dream was Mary. She was a girl around 18 this time, but in other dreams, she was around my mother's age, and had a son around my age, also in some dreams, she was younger than 18 and was enjoying her life with her parents, the two from this dream. In other dreams, she was with her son, who was at times school kid, college kid and even kindergarten.
However, the two kinds of dreams never clashed. I mean, she was either with her parents or was either with her son, but not with both at the same time.
Maybe there was some meaning behind that, but the most convincing guess I could make is, at some point of her life, her parents died and she was left with only her son.
However, all through her life, one thing doesn't add up, she never had a husband nor a boyfriend. Without a partner, she couldn't have a son, that is what I know about humans, but I might change my opinions if I have more knowledge about the dreams, still, I wish it don't go to that extent.
This is not the case with her life alone, all the other five person's lives have some important parts missing in my dreams.
I try to imagine those parts hoping I could dream that part some time or other, but no matter how hard I try to dream about those, I end up dreaming something unrelated and sometime I dream a bright white room and stay there locked throughout the dream.
It feels like there is something blocking me to see through those parts, as if I'm being restricted to have access to that parts of their lives by someone superior than me, someone who could control my dreams.
It's hard to explain why I feel this, but if it is a mandate to explain this, then I could call it as gut feeling, as in movies.
Leaving that hypothetical dilemmas and the cinematic things, there is one distinct thing common in all their lives.
They all live in another world called 'Nirvana.'
To describe 'Nirvana', I can't think of any other words more suited than this, 'A magical medieval modern world.'
None of the words relate to each other and not any fiction story I heard of have a setting like that. It feels fictional, more like a fantasy, and the more I experience those lives, the more surreal they feel.
It's like someone is messing with my mind with some purpose and are trying to feed all this imaginations to check my reactions or my mental capacity or some other thing.
It feels stupid and I don't know what I'm thinking anymore, but this dreams or lives are unavoidable and without a choice I need to live with their lives for the rest of my life, just the way I'm living this past year.
Hence, I'm trying to collect this knowledge whether or not it is useful, and this book is kind of my personal treasure for now.
I removed my bag from under the bed and put it on my lap. Carefully observing it, there is nothing unusual about it, just a normal black college bag with some books, a bottle and a pen. However, there is a hidden pocket in the bag.
With my fingers gently pressing the inside of the bag, a small 'click' sound came from it, letting me know I pressed it at right place.
Removing the thin black sheet on the back, there is a small zip hiding there. Unzipping it, I have access to my hidden pocket, large enough to fit my book.
I carefully placed the treasure book there and again put the sheet back.
This all feel some kind of idiotic detective stuff, but having a super protective mother who will check your bags time to time, some stuff like this are necessary.
Anyway, let's head to the bath first before Maa comes in.
Walking toward the bathroom, I stopped by the mirror.
An 18 old boy, who could be easily mistaken for a young man because of the sturdy muscles and six feet height, a clean shave handsome face, with just one cinematic wink, girls would come running to him. This is what I look like-, or what I want to look like.
But the mirror shows a different person, just an 18 year old boy, nothing less or nothing more.
That's how I look, no distinguishable features other than being a 18 year old boy.
Letting out a sigh, I averted my eyes from the mirror and walked to the bathroom.
….